


A Very Good Boy

by faedreamer



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Begging, Domestic Fluff, Hartwin, Kitchen Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prompt Fic, Smut, Suit Kink, eggsy is a little tart, eggsy is harry's good boy, light bondage elements, raunchy as fuck, shameless eggsy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-16 22:02:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4641783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faedreamer/pseuds/faedreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The lovely scandalmuss on Tumblr gave me this prompt for my birthday prompt request:</p>
<p>"how about Hartwin plus something potentially smutty like Eggsy doing some spring cleaning but only in that apron of Harry’s?"</p>
<p>I tweaked it some, making it cooking instead of spring cleaning and added a good dose of 'fully clothed Harry fucks the living hell out of his very naked boy'. :) Sorry not sorry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Very Good Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry you had such a shitty day, scandalmuss, I hope this cheers you just a little. :)

“How the _fuck_ does Harry make this look so easy?” Eggsy’s muttering to himself, bent over peering at a video on his iPad and Harry takes a moment to admire the delicious view of his boy’s taut ass in those painted on jeans he favors so much. Only for a moment, though, before Harry’s attention is drawn to the mess Eggsy’s made of his kitchen and takes a step through the archway.

“What exactly do I make look easy?”

Eggsy jumps, spinning around and immediately his face just crumples, shoulders slumping. “Shit, Harry...you ain’t s’posed to be home for another twenty minutes.” He heaves a sigh and gestures around the demolished kitchen. “Course, don’t think twenty minutes woulda made much difference, a disaster’s a disaster, innit?”

Sometimes, Harry genuinely wonders what kind of mistake in the grand scheme of Karma and Fate landed this boy in his life. Not just in his life, but in his bed, in his heart. Harry’s never considered himself a particularly good man, especially considering the things he must do in his line of work, even if it is for the greater good. So it’s baffling to him, sometimes, when he looks at Eggsy with all his light and his insatiable curiosity and boundless enthusiasm and realizes that, somehow, this boy is his. It’s quite humbling, really.

He closes the gap between them, smiling at how the apron - which fits himself quite well - drags down to hit just below the knee on Eggsy, who is a good deal shorter. It’s cute, though he’s positive Eggsy would kick him if he said so. “What happened in here?”

Eggsy rolls his eyes. “I happened, pretty much. I was gonna cook dinner. You always cook and...I just thought I’d do it for once.”

It’s impossible to keep the smile off his face, not even his years of training help. Eggsy blushes and rolls his eyes, as he usually does when he realizes Harry thinks he’s done something cute. Eggsy is not fond of being ‘cute’, Harry’s learned in the past six months. Eggsy prefers to be thought of as ‘badass’ and ‘sexy’ and ‘dangerous’. Spy things, he calls them. And he _is_ all those things, but sometimes...sometimes he’s just so bloody adorable, too.

“Shut up,” Eggsy mumbles, scratching his nose. “Stop lookin’ at me like that, will you?”

Harry chuckles, shaking his head as he slips an arm around Eggsy to cage him in against the counter. “Oh no. I don’t think I will, actually.” The other hand comes up to pluck at the strap of the apron, fingers brushing Eggsy’s neck at the same time. “I like you in this. We should get you one that fits, my wee boy.”

That gets him a narrow-eyed glare. He just laughs again and drops a kiss to those sullen, pink lips.

Eggsy only allows it for a second before he breaks the kiss and shakes his head, turning in Harry’s embrace. “Might as well turn off the oven, ain’t nothin’ gonna be edible anyway…”

Harry’s hands slide down Eggsy’s sides, curling on his hips so he can tug them back slightly and nudge his cock firmly against the inviting curve of his ass. “Oh, I disagree...there is plenty in this kitchen that I very much would like to sample.” He demonstrates his point with a gentle bite on the side of Eggsy’s neck, tongue soothing the sting.

His boy responds like a match touched to tinder. Every time, it never fails to take Harry’s breath away when a simple touch, a look even, can set Eggsy afire. This time it’s a heavy exhale of shaky breath as the boy tips his head to allow better access, and pushes his hips back even more, giving a slow little grind that provides heady friction on Harry’s cock.

“You done more’n sample and we both know it,” he teases, the last word broken with a shudder as Harry takes another taste, this time having tugged his tshirt collar aside to get at the smooth, firm round of his shoulder. “Aw fuck me…”

Harry grins against his skin. “I certainly intend to,” he replies, one hand moving from Eggsy’s hip around to slip under the apron and between his thighs, palming the hard length of his cock. “You’re wearing too many clothes, my love.”

Eggsy braces his hands on the edge of the counter, looking back over his shoulder. “That’s you not doing your job, seems to me.” He reaches down to cover Harry’s hand, rocking forward into the pressure, then back harder against Harry’s cock. It’s like being doused in heat and Harry feels faint with it.

He reaches up to bury his hand in Eggsy’s hair, pushing him forward and down so his arms rest on the countertop, putting him at _just_ the right angle for a long, thorough fucking. First, though, the clothes. He can’t help the grin when his boy lets out a disappointed groan the second Harry lets go of his cock. The disappointment is gone by the next groan, when Harry strips the apron from him and reaches both hands around to pop open his jeans.

“Good god, boy, these things are obscenely tight,” he mutters, bending to graze his teeth against Eggsy’s nape as he peels the skin-tight denim down over the lushest, roundest, most beautiful ass he’s ever seen. A pair of bright blue underwear go down with them, leaving flawless, pale gold flesh exposed.

“Ain’t never seen you complain, old man,” Eggsy shoots back, impatiently toeing his trainers off so he can kick out of the jeans completely.

Harry gives that bare, beautiful ass a firm smack. “Call me old man again and I won’t allow you to come for a week, brat.”

Eggsy’s laugh is rough and throaty, his teeth digging into his lower lip when he looks back at Harry again. “Liar,” he accuses. “You like watching me come just as much as you like comin’ yourself.”

God, wasn’t that the truth. Eggsy caught up in his pleasure was a breathtaking sight, one not to be missed. Still, Eggsy begging to be allowed to come was just as breathtaking. Decisions, decisions. He splays his hand across one firm cheek, squeezing and spreading, one finger stretching out to dip into the cleft and ever so lightly stroke across his entrance. Eggsy lets out a sobbing little sound, forehead dropping to the counter top with a groan.

“Fuuuuck. Evil...god, I love you.”

Harry smiles and lets go of his ass, focused on getting him naked as possible - wouldn’t want to slack on his ‘job’, as Eggsy called it. There’s just his t-shirt left, and that gets shoved up toward his shoulders, then forward over his head so the material remains tangled around his arms, a handy grip for Harry to control those sneaky, naughty hands. He holds it twisted tight around Eggsy’s wrists, free hand now roaming across the muscled, gorgeous planes of his broad back and narrow waist.

“You are so beautiful, my boy. Look at you. There’s no dinner, but something tells me that’s not what you want anyway, is it? Are you hungry, Eggsy?”

Eggsy mewls, breath panting hard as he rocks against Harry, hips twisting with clear, unashamed need. “Fuck yes, Harry. Need you. Always, I do, please…”

Sweat breaks out on Harry’s upper lip, heart racing with desire. He’s losing the want to tease him, too entranced by his needy, hungry movements so all Harry wants is to give his boy what he’s begging for. But, oh, Eggsy can beg so much better than that. So pretty. So he reins in the pounding arousal and focuses on driving Eggsy as close to the edge as he can before Harry joins him there.

“Now, that’s not quite good enough, is it? You can give me more than that, sweet boy.” Harry drags his tongue along Eggsy’s sleek spine, teeth finding purchase in the firm muscle of his shoulder blade and dragging a guttural cry from Eggsy. “Tell me what you want, everything you want, and you shall have it.”

“Aw fuck...fuck, Harry...please, I want you, I want you in me…”

“More specific,” Harry tsks, tightening his grip on Eggsy’s wrists when the boy tugs at the restraint instinctively.

“Want your fingers, dammit. Want your fingers fucking me hard, deep, filling me up, Harry god you wanker, please!”

Harry groans, free hand giving Eggsy’s ass a hard squeeze. “Good boy, that’s how I like to hear you beg.” He glances around briefly and grabs for the olive oil on the counter. Eggsy lets out a grateful sound and eagerly shifts his legs further apart, offering himself up so beautifully. Harry sometimes cannot contain how much the boy makes him feel, bending to brush a gentle kiss to his nape as he oils his fingers and slides them home inside Eggsy without a moment’s pause. One, then two, savoring every rough groan and gasp of pleasure as Eggsy tilts his head back, eyes closed tight, letting himself adjust to the sudden fullness.

There’s no pain, though, Harry can tell. He’s become quite good at gauging just how hot for him his boy is, which directly relates to just how fast Eggsy is able to take him, how sharp an edge he’s willing to ride in order to get Harry inside him as fast as he wants him.

“There’s my Eggsy,” Harry breathes against his skin, pressing his cock up against Eggsy’s hip through his suit pants. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Is that what you wanted, love?”

Eggsy nods, panting frantically for a long moment before his breathing evens out and Harry can feel the muscles relax around his fingers, going supple and welcoming, slow, sensual rocks of those lovely hips as Eggsy fucks himself oh so slowly on Harry’s fingers. “Yes, Harry...that’s exactly it...fuck, you’re so good,” he whispers.

Harry is just as addicted to the praise as Eggsy is. There is nothing he wouldn’t do for words like that - that he’s giving him what he needs, loving him right, worthy of him. Eggsy isn’t the only one with doubts about whether or not he can hold onto this relationship, this absolutely wonderful feeling. And suddenly the attempt at cooking dinner makes so much sense.

“Sweet boy...you know I don’t care if you ever cook a meal or clean a floor, don’t you? You are enough, Eggsy. Always.” His fingers still, face turns into Eggsy’s warm neck. “Do you know that?”

Eggsy nods. “Yeah, I know...still, though.” He shrugs one shoulder.

Harry smiles. “I know.” He does know. He presses a loving kiss to Eggsy’s neck, satisfied that Eggsy isn’t worrying that he’s a burden or a hassle or any other patently untrue thing, and turns focus again to driving him absolutely mad with pleasure. “Now then...you’ve got what you wanted, Eggsy...is this all?” He knows it isn’t.

Eggsy lets out a harsh breath, clenching around his smoothly sliding fingers. “You know it fuckin’ well ain’t,” he groans, pushing his hips back and arching his back just so, all sinuous and sleek like a wild, golden cat. “I want ya to fuck me, ‘Arry...fuck me so ‘ard…”

His accent goes thicker when he reaches the point of no return, Harry’s noticed. It’s a beautiful little tell that makes Harry warm inside. He twists his fingers inside him, seeking out his prostate with knowing, expert motions, and a second later, Eggsy is cursing him to hell and back and Harry just laughs. His own cock is aching with the need for release, but Harry has many years of learning the art of control. Eggsy, however, hasn’t learned anything of it yet and it’s so much fun to unravel him with a few strokes of his fingers in _just_ the right spot…

“Hard, you say, love? How hard?” He bites that soft, arched neck again, harder this time, enough to mark. Merlin will roll his eyes tomorrow, but Harry will spend all day dying to strip Eggsy and mark him all over again. It’s like self-torture and he loves it.

“So fuckin’ hard, please!” His hips are driving back now, no longer rocking gently. His body demanding and Harry is incapable of resisting that siren’s call.

He withdraws his fingers with a low, muttered curse, unbuttoning his jacket and lowering the zipper on his pants to reach in and free his cock. Another liberal slick of oil and then he’s rubbing the broad, slippery head up and down the warm cleft of Eggsy’s presented ass. They’ve been monogamous since day one, tested by the agency regularly and condoms have never had a place in their bed.

Not that they fuck in an actual bed very often, honestly.

He hesitates just a few heartbeats, though, letting the tension build in them both, letting Eggsy feel the hard push of his cock against him, but not actually penetrating just yet. It’s too delicious to rush. Eggsy’s need is like a fine brandy, meant to be savored. Then, just when he knows Eggsy can’t take anymore teasing, Harry lets go of his wrists, sinks a hand into his hair to fist tightly, and buries himself deep inside him in one smooth stroke.

Eggsy bucks under him, disentangling his hands in a second and immediately reaching back one to curl on Harry’s hip, encouraging him, gripping tight into the fine fabric of his suit. Eggsy rears up, back against Harry’s chest now, and his other hand comes up and back into Harry’s hair. “Fuck yes,” he gasps, hips moving with his hard, long thrusts. “Jesus, more, Harry, please…”

Harry reaches down to close on Eggsy’s hard, leaking cock, the other hand curling gently across the front of his throat, holding him back against himself as their bodies move together, in perfect sync, like a dance only they know the steps to. His mouth presses against Eggsy’s ear, breathing hard, teeth grazing the lobe, but he doesn't say anything, just gives Eggsy what he's begging for. More.

Eggsy is the talker of the two, full of filthy pleas and constant cursing, loud and frantic and always so, so expressive. Harry, on the other hand, finds it hard to even catch his breath when he’s inside him, let alone form a coherent sentence. Luckily, Eggsy is more than willing to be loud enough for the both of them. And good god, the way he’s going now, Harry has a feeling he won’t be able to look the neighbors in the eye for a full month this time.

But as the orgasm roars closer, like a freight train on the horizon about to mow him down, Harry could care less about manners and his pride or, god forbid, anyone but the beautiful, passionate, beloved boy in his arms. Only one word manages to escape him as he comes so hard he sees stars - Eggsy’s name.

Eggsy is seconds behind, the clenching nearly painful on Harry’s over-sensitized cock, and then they collapse forward together against the counter, panting and sweaty and a mess. Perfection.

Of course, Eggsy recovers first - the benefits of youth - and turns his head with a slow, shaky smile. “Christ sake, Harry...you ain’t even take off your tie?”

Harry manages a chuckle. “A gentleman always dresses for the occasion,” he quips. “And if you’re a very good boy, I’ll let you help me undress just as soon as I catch my breath…”

“Wasn’t I just a very good boy?”

That, Harry thinks, is the understatement of a lifetime.


End file.
